


The Bountiful Rewards of Being Loved

by Cers



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Essek Point of View, Fam is it possible to fall in love with a fictional city, Flipflopping so much in this timeline we'll need a TARDIS, Fluff, Just Vibes, Local Cryptids- Married Narrative Foils, M/M, Married Couple, Nicodranas (Critical Role), No Plot, Post-Campaign, Professors, Shadowgast, This is so ridiculously self-indulgent, Timestamp Format, What's softer than wizards? (nothing), Will feature various mentions and appearances of canon NPCs, because I may have a problem, ish, soft vibes only, takes place over five-ten years who knows not this author
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:27:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23837560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cers/pseuds/Cers
Summary: Reader, let me paint you a picture:A former child-assassin and an exiled traitor settle down in a quiet neighbourhood of the streets of Nicodranas. They're married, and happy. Their friends have parted ways for their own journeys, but are not out of touch by any means. War and disruption is a thing of the past, all having settled into peace. Their life is domestic, pretty uneventful, and overall pleasant.Oh, and they open up a magic school of their own.
Relationships: Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 43
Kudos: 144





	1. Fruit Stands and Soft Embraces

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to several people- myself, first and foremost as a distraction from darker thoughts and events. To my readers of _That Carnivorous Dark_ \- you deserve this. To anyone seeking momentary reprieve and wants soft imagery for our favourite wizards and Nein. Finally to the ETFC you incredible bunch of beautiful, creative, encouraging bastards I love you all.
> 
> I will be updating this as I go, with more timestamps and moments. There is no order. There is no plot. There is only love, growth, and kindness in these digital pages <3

Essek Widogast, former Shadowhand to the Bright Queen, excommunicated son of Den Thelyss, exiled traitor to the Kryn Dynasty and current member of The Mighty Nein, was _shopping._

Practised fingers dance over shining, bright mounds- each all angled to show their very best wares. The merchant - a jaunty halfling named Jilsy- watches him with sharp eyes, and a sharper tongue. 

“You waft ‘n’ linger any more o’er them, they’re gonnae ripen afore our eyes.”

One long finger is raised and slowly wags at her. “Patience, now. _Patience_. My husband is very particular about his breakfast and demands only the _finest_ of fruits.”

Jilsy _phhbbts_ in his direction, blowing up a collection of dark curls from over her face. “That’s a load o’ pish- Caleb is an absolute sweetheart, but Avandra bless him, he’s nae sense when it comes to choosin’ fruit.”

“Precisely.” She wasn’t wrong. Having lived as roughly as he had for a number of years, Caleb still had the occasional mentality of any-food-was-good-food. That had relaxed a lot over their time together, as Essek opened up a wider cuisine to Caleb, but even now Caleb still might argue that overly-stale bread was still decent enough to eat. 

“Or men, I’m beginning to believe.” She tacks on snippingly. “I’m beginning tae ‘hink _yer_ the picky wan between the two o' you.” 

Essek chuckles, and still hovers over one particular fruit. It didn’t differentiate any differently from its siblings- all the stock here was _excellent_ quality- but he still made a quiet fuss over inspecting it, humming and ahhing before deciding to move on to others. Jilsy sighs irritably, throwing her hands in the air and jangling her many bangles. 

“Yer gonnae haud up the rest o’ my customers.”

At this, Essek raises his head, as well as one fine white eyebrow. 

It was not yet dawn in the Nicodranas market. The sky was a deep royal blue, with fringes of succulent ambers beginning to peek on the horizon. There was foot traffic, of course, the docks never really slept. Nor did the gulls. Damnable creatures. But even so, this was Essek’s favourite times to roam the streets. The low light was the main reason, the quietude was the other. 

He was an oddity in town, for sure. Not many Kryn drow pass through so openly- though a few more and more venturing out since peace had been brokered across the continent. But he had been here for some time now, and was becoming one of the city’s many and curious oddities. He liked to think he added a little _charm_. He knows the deeply tanned woman before him agrees. 

The benefit to these early pre-dawn excursions was getting first perusal over fresh stock- whether it be fruit, baked good, fish, or steamed vegetables. He had taken time, during his first two months here or so, to explore and adventure the multitudinous streets, labyrinthine and terracotta as they were. 

It had been thrilling, and terrifying, all that exploration. He did it all under a guise of a non-descript human, Essek had felt out the people of this city, judging them and observing. He found he liked them. He walked more often than not nowadays, habitual floating a thing of the past. He liked the feel of the paved roads and cobblestones supporting the arches in his feet and keeping him stable while he went.

As time went on, his presence here more secure and permanent, Essek found it bothersome to keep his face hidden. And so, over time, he would start making bolder and bolder excursions with his husband on his arm. 

Eventually, as curiosity and double-takes calmed down into highly-rare-occurrences, Essek faded into the background like many more of Nicodranas’ colourful denizens. He never felt more welcomed, as when he was ignored. Caleb had teased him kindly, and dubbed him an Official Local when Essek explained the shift one breakfast meal.

Essek remembers slumping a little in his chair hearing those words, and letting the feeling of acceptance wash over him like a fresh rain. He- he never knew how much he _needed_ to hear that, until Caleb had knighted him as Nicodranian Background Noise. Caleb had noticed the mood change and left his own chair to fold Essek into his sternum, kissing him on the head and understanding the solemnity of a seemingly insignificant event. The city just felt much more kind after that whenever Essek stepped out the door. 

Jilsy had been one of the first people to take to him. She appreciated his methodic, and precise inspections, and the two developed a mutually antagonistic bond. She was abrasive, and took no nonsense. She had a fierce streak and could haggle a man into the ground. She was incredible to watch in her element. She very much reminded her of Beauregard in that sense, and with her dark skin and darker hair the similarities grew. He’d love to introduce his friends to each other one day. 

Yes, Essek worked hard to cultivate this particular relationship. It had taken trial and error, but he found the perfect window to not be bustled about and hurried in these fruity reviews, and allowing him the time to build the foundations of their bickering. 

Just before the dawn would rise, two or three times a week, Essek would leave the cosy confines of his husband’s arms to stroll across the wharf and promenade and come wish his friend a good morning. Given the blanketing darkness, and barest peeks of the day, he was usually her only customer for these brief interludes. And so he inspects, peruses, and riles. 

He peers at another perfect pomegranate , finding no flaw, but lingering anyway. He adds another little thoughtful hum for flair. He earns a swift light ‘whack!’ of a walking stick to his shoulder for his troubles.

“Ow!” he exaggerates, rubbing the ‘wound’ with a pout.

“Dinnae you ‘ow’ me, Widogast,” and she points behind him where an older gentleman - a dwarf with a beard whiter than his own hair - was hobbling up towards them for his daily regular order. His fun was over. 

He picks up the first pomegranate he inspected with a drum of his fingers in the air, loving the way Jilsy’s eyes expectedly roll at his unnecessary display of magic. The item in question raises up from its companions to beside his person.

“Damn showoff,” she mutters fondly, expectantly, pocketing the coins he passed. Another one of their now-scripted exchanges fulfilled. 

With manners drilled into him from childhood, but wholly meant with respect, Essek nods his head at his friend (flashing a genuine Thelyss smile, of course), and bows deeply to the man approaching. She sighs once more, and his grin widens. 

“Heh -heh-” the gentleman chokes a little, displacing his glasses. “You t-t-two _f-f-f-igthin’_ again?” 

“ _Never_ , Elder.” Essek places one graceful hand over his heart, offended. “I am of _course_ complimenting Mrs. Garret on her excellent quality, as always, and she assaulted me! This is a terrible business Grandfather, I would not spend coin here.” He drops to a stage whisper. “The merchant here is very onerous and violent.” He points to his arm as though displaying a most grievous battle wound. 

Jilsy tuts, pretending to ignore him from where she fusses over her displays. The third in their group laughs loudly. “Ha ha! Away, away wi’ ye ya rascal,” he waves a fond, wrinkled hand. “Tell that husband of yours I s-said ‘hello’! And that my g-gr-granddaughter that she is to c-come f-fo-for d-d-dinner soon!”

“I will do exactly that, Grandfather.” He gives another wide smile to bid his goodbyes. “ _Jilsy_. Sir.” He bows once more, and with his floating wares following, takes a walk back to his school with a skip in his step. 

* * *

Essek had a complicated relationship with Nicodranas. From visiting here to purchase wine for a very nervous dinner*, to having his soul stripped bare and on display for his friends to see in the very docks he now walked past. Memories abound haunted him - some jarring and lamentable - others happier and more frequently revisited. 

Beyond the Archways, which he strolled past one now with purchases firmly in his basket (Jilsy was long out of sight and he didn’t want to stir up any more attention), Essek recalls the first time he visited the Lavish Chateau. 

Jester’s childhood home was wildly opposing from Essek’s icy Den quarters in the Bastion. 

The Chateau- like a lot of Nicodranas - was warm, inviting, loud and elegant. Like a wise oak tree, sturdy and dependable, and filled with character.

In recent years, its focus had shifted a little, and newer construction work now completed beside it. The new extension operated as a partner to the bordello, and focused more on the public entertainment aspect of the business. Mrs. Lavorre owned this, as he understood it, and organised and ran exquisite shows and pageants with all sorts of individuals coming to perform in. Now a growing famous venue, many came from all over to view the performances and guest entertainers. More rare than had been previously, Mrs. Lavorre would take to the stage to croon her guests and patrons, lulling them into a warm, waiting blanket and feeling like they were home. 

Essek knew _exactly_ how this felt for she had kindly sung at their wedding for their first dance. Now whenever he hears her so much as hum, he is transported back to holding his new husband close in his arms, turning slowly and intimately to her deep, elegant tones. 

She was an incredible woman. It was very easy to see where Jester learned to love so disarmingly. 

Essek’s first meeting with Mrs. Lavorre was some years ago, when he was on the run. 

The business with the beacons- and the war that followed - had ended. Eventually. The historical Peace Talks had been the first step in many, but via the Mighty Nein, other nefarious plots were fully uncovered- and then wholly thwarted. _Not_ discounting an attempt on his own person. He still bore two deep scars - one on his chest, another barely missing a vital artery in his leg - from the attack. But afterwards he had turned up on the deck of their ship (travelling back from a _volcano_ ) bleeding and pleading before promptly passing out. 

He never left them again after that. 

Time and twists unfolded, and it had been difficult navigating those early days with tensions high and trust low. But there was one shining moment that stood out to him amongst it all- and that was coming to Nicodranas for the first time since that night of accidental trial on The Balleater. 

They had a homebase here of sorts, and Jester was more excited and bouncing than he had ever seen her. Disguised as a half-elf of honeyed brown skin and sun-kissed hair, Essek followed bemusedly while the others watched the tiefling with expected fondness. 

It was truly a beautiful building, with its chiselled terracotta patternry and eloquent arches, but the most exquisite character was waiting inside. 

Marion Lavorre stood in a white, sleeveless, floor-length slip. Her bare arms were immediately filled with Jester and the two animatedly cooed together before turning to view the rest. Wise eyes swept over the group, pausing fondly on each face as though inspecting each new scar and injury. Her brow would pinch upon seeing some new acquired hurt, or looking deeper into tired smiles. But one-by-one she inspected the Mighty Nein and found them whole and in one piece. And then those piercing eyes stopped to rest on him. 

Jester gave her mother a squeeze and excitedly said, “that’s _him_ Mamma! _This_ is Essek.” The woman broke her gaze for a moment to smile proudly at her daughter, her hand rubbing once more on a tattooed shoulder, before disengaging completely and slowly ambling over to him. 

Beside him, Caleb treacherously stepped away until only Essek stood rooted before the Lavorre Matriarch. 

She was tall, and sensual. Voluptuous and curved. The silken piece she wore did little to hide such attributes, and Essek understood why many were said to fall in love with her. Dark curls were pinned high and artfully, cascading elegantly down her back, and a knowing look came to rest over her face as she took him in head to toe. 

Essek felt seen. 

He felt … _known_. 

She gave him a look of understanding sadness- of knowing what it was to hide away. It wasn’t expectant, or accusing. There was no derision or judgement. No. He saw himself reflected in her eyes. It was kinship. 

He dropped the disguise silently. 

Her lips- maroon and full - softened to a kind smile, and a barely noticeable nod displaced a single curl. She slowly held her arms open. 

If Essek were amongst _anyone_ else, he may have been embarrassed and affronted by how quickly he fell into her embrace. Arms, long and warm, curled around him in a manner so tender he never knew it was possible to feel so secure. 

Jester’s hugs were deliberate. They were firm, and bone-cracking, as though she was pouring every ounce of her love and affection into every squeeze and the harder she squeezed, the more love she transferred. 

The only other hug he experienced was an excited hook around his waist from a bouncing wizard having just completed a discovery with two of his friends. It had been over as quickly as it had begun and Essek never had the time to revel in it, too shocked that he was at the sudden contact. 

But this embrace was more of a cradle. It enveloped him, held him close, but not inescapably so. He was not arrested in bondage here, but the effect may as well have been as though under arcane lock and key.

She folded him to her breast like he’d seen many other parents do with children (but not from his own), and he remembers his breath catching in his throat- stuck and emotional.

Being taller, she was able to just rest her cheek against his temple, and one hand rubbed a small pattern across his back. A hum vibrated from her chest to his. 

His own hands- hovering awkwardly and unsure where to go - soon found purchase scrambled in the back folds of her dress. He didn’t mean to hold so tight. He never meant to hold at all. But there was some secret spell in Lavorre hugs and embraces that had his fingers clutching that white silk and shielding his watery eyes from the world. 

She somehow knew, by looking through his charade and begging invitation into his unsure mind- tumultuous and upended from what ordinary life had been less than a year prior - exactly what he needed. And despite not even knowing or realising himself, Essek had fallen into fond love with yet another Lavorre woman. 

Jester later revealed, once his muted cries had calmed and tears been wiped (apologies sniffled over and over for sullying her clothes), that she had told Mamma about him. She told her that he was lonely, and misguided, and in trouble. And that he could use all the love they could pile on him. 

Essek didn’t have the words to berate her. To thank her. To chide her for talking about him. To grovel at her for caring about him so much. He stared, and stared, until one blue hand folded into his own and emotions threatened to drown him once more. His throat had worked dangerously for the second time that day, and Jester's face told him that she heard the words he failed to say out loud. 

Being with the Mighty Nein was a whiplash of an experience in those early days. 

They had stayed for a few days, before moving to their next destination, and Essek found himself falling a little in love with the atmosphere of the Chateau, and the city as a whole. With many decades of practice he eventually composed himself and engaged Mrs. Lavorre in musical conversation at dinner that night. She was an intelligent, well-read woman and Essek found he’d made yet another friend, or perhaps a possible parent figure. A _something_ affectionate. 

He realised, a lot later and after _much_ reflection of that open, raw display, that he was probably older than she was. Only one other in their patchwork Den came close to his age. But that didn’t stop her matronly eyes, fond and soft- with happy wrinkles framing - from squinting at him wittingly and fully welcoming him into her home. 

There had been a shift in the group after that, and rowdy doubts - once vocal and abrasive - settled into grumbling acceptance, eventually evolving into fast friendship. 

He didn’t know what magic Mrs. Lavorre worked that day on him, but something inside him _healed_ and he added just one more fortuitous moment to his ever-growing list of gratitude for having these people completely upend his life.

Since then he always looked forward to returning to Nicodranas. Jester kept them up to date with her mother when they were on the road, and vice versa. Marion was kind enough to supply various garments and articles more suitable for Essek’s liking, compared to the hardy travelgear preferred by some of the rest of the Mighty Nein. It was another point in their growing relationship. 

He was pleased years on as he watched her retire from the Chateau proper and set up next door as entrepreneur and boss. Her business flourished and building on her already incredible reputation, became renowned up and down the coast and beyond. 

Her husband, Mr. Lavorre, was a pleasant man, though disarming at first with his piercing gaze. A common trait among the Lavorres, he found, though for different reasons. Between two such striking, incredibly charismatic parents, Jester was _always_ going to end up being a force to be reckoned with in the world. And what a trail she blazed. 

It is fond moments and remembrances like these that pepper his memories as he walks through the waking streets, and into the house that was their humble school of learning and magic. 

Some familiar faces- also early risers and late-night workers- nod and acknowledge him as he passes. As one of the infamous Mighty Nein (rumoured heroes of Wildemount don’t you know) he gets a mixture of reactions. Double-takes for being an out-and-about drow, suspicion (very rare now, he’s still pleased to note), acknowledging nods (for he is now a staple to these streets, one of them, a _local_ ), and kind smiles sugared with ‘good-morning-how-are-yous’. 

Yes, Essek loved Nicodranas. He was pleased to feel welcomed and at home. 

And so his morning begins with sitting his goods on a kitchen table, and feeling two sleepy arms wrap around his waist. A kiss is pressed deep into his neck, and a muffled ‘guten morgen’ tickles his ears. 

“Good morning, my love. Would you like some pomegranate for breakfast today?”

* * *

Incredibly beautiful piece by[ @agentmintea on Twitter](https://twitter.com/agentmintea/status/1261564772434227206) or [agentmintea on tumblr](https://agentmintea.tumblr.com/post/618255161419268096/shadowgast-week-day-6-domesticity-good), please go retweet/reblog because it's such lovely art and I'm so humbled to have inspired it T_T Thank you Minty!!!! <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * I have another fic entitled _A Fool's Errand_ which explores the possibility that Essek may have teleported to Nicodranas between eps 90 and 91 to purchase a particular bottle of wine....
> 
> Thank you for reading, stay tuned for more Softe Vibes™.


	2. A Chapter of Firsts

Some five years or more ago, a few years following the downfall of the Assembly, the dismantling of the Cult, and the ruination of dark machinations most foul, Essek and Caleb wed. 

It was a simple ceremony, on a secluded beach just south of Nicodranas. They wed at dusk, with the sun setting on their vows, and rising the next day with their unified love. The collective celebrations went deep into the evening, while their more private, intimate festivities went long into the night. Their garments were soft and loose. Hair was loosely braided and carefree. Tears were glistening and sweet, their happiness genuine with smiles permanent. 

A small party joined them on the beach- friends from adventures past, and families grown. The sea was the soundtrack to their declarations, and joyous applause for their pronouncement. 

A deck had been built for the occasion, hosting tables and chairs in an approximate circle. Laughter flowed and wine poured. In the distance a lighthouse shone. 

Fjord wed them, the rest of the Nein standing either side. Essek’s hands had trembled, but Caleb’s intertwining fingers squeezed his nerves away. Flowers, blessed and styled, framed a simple arch of which they stood under (courtesy of the Wildmother, they had been informed). 

Jester stood firm behind Essek, Caduceus a calming, kind presence next to her, humming and nodding to Fjord’s speech. Over Caleb’s shoulder, Essek watched Beauregard fail to maintain a composed face. Veth held her hand tight while blowing into her handkerchief. 

Yasha, radiant in a relaxed, white garment, held a pale cushion bearing two adamantine rings, and a gold-and-silver ribbon. Standing sentinel directly across from Fjord, Caleb and Essek were fully encircled by their friends as they gave their vows. 

Cheers, jeers, and claps accompanied them as the two shared their first kiss as husbands, tears unashamedly flowing glistening with pure happiness. 

It had been a beautiful night, and the dancing silly and his new family incredible. While there was never an official ceremony outside of a loud ‘Welcome!’ Essek finally felt cemented into the mismatched family of Den Nein- not just as himself, but also as Caleb’s husband. 

Essek walked away that night with a new name, and a new chapter starting in his life. 

He had a gift for his beloved. Purchased after several meetings and viewings of a single plot of land just on the edge of the city weeks before the ceremony. Trees bordered the far side, shading about half of the area as he tracked the scorching sun over several days.

It had taken much deliberation, even more haggling, and a quiet meeting or three with Errenis to ask in aid securing it, but Essek walked away from the realtor with a parcel of land of just over two acres. He had to promise to aid with some menial tasks around the tower for the golden wizard, but Essek didn’t grumble out loud. It was going to be worth it. 

The location- with its natural shade and out-of-the-way placement, was in a quiet neighbourhood of the city, one of the many fine selling points for this particular investment. Another had been the vacated house in the middle. 

It was a curious piece. Or rather - _pieces_. An initial two-floor house, grand in décor but small in size, had been built in the centre. Its style- like a lot of Nicodranas, was a compelling mix of Empire and Coast architecture. Made of washed sandstone brick, but with a deep sloping slatted roof, the entrance seemed normal. Well, unusual for him, but normal for Nicodranas. 

Over time, it seems as though previous owners had added to it. One section protruded from the left in a similar colour, but with a more _exotic_ influence- also standing at two-floors. Where the central section had demure, sensible windows astride a solid wooden door, this left-hand extension was _loud_. Wide windows for sunning the rooms, fresher paint and sweeping, welcoming gables adorned it. 

The right-hand-side of the centre paid homage to the more serious, severe styles of the north and so on it went.

There were five additions over all, with two more humble expansions to the back, made by three different families over time he learned. The end result was a cobbled-together, eye-sore of a building with private gardens and interesting features. It had, in a word, _character_. If there was one thing he knew about his soon-to-be husband, it’s that Caleb would appreciate its odd personality. And the more Essek learned and viewed, the more he realised how much he resonated with it too. 

It was no tower, there were really only two towering buildings in the city, and neither were up for sale. So he settled on _unique_ instead. 

They had spoken about settling, when they were planning their wedding. Not too old for adventuring by any means, but the wanderlust and need for staying in one place grew with both. Too many unfinished research projects, too many ideas and plans to develop, just not enough _space_ . Nicodranas seemed home enough to the Nein in general, and Essek found he was growing on the locale too. The sun was an inconvenience, but one he was working around despite Caleb’s vocal concerns about him. As much as the Empire might have more frequent overcast weather, it was still the _Empire_. Things were slowly changing for the better, but they didn’t want to be bothered. Besides, the rest of their Den more or less settled here. It made the most sense, Essek had assured him one evening after repeating the conversation once more. Tucking a loose strand behind Caleb’s ear, Essek had leaned forward and placed a sweet kiss on worried lips to silence any more pressing of the matter. 

The night dissolved into something a little more distracted after that. 

So they decided on Nicodranas, and Essek _insisted_ he do this for them. Caleb trusted him implicitly, especially since a lot of the deciding factors of the property were to revolve around Essek’s comfort, Caleb had stated firmly - both in the locale and dealing with the light of day. 

Essek calmly agreed, and called it a win. That didn’t stop him from finding out what Caleb wanted though. It took some gentle prying and subtle blasé, oh-you _-know-_ just-wondering questioning about preferences and architectural inclinations and needs, Essek eventually found what he needed to make his fiancé happy. He took the initiative to spend some of his coin, enlisted aid, and set about house-hunting. If Caleb didn’t like it, they would simply resell it. Somehow though, Essek didn’t think that was going to be the case. And so, he found this lot. 

It had sat long-abandoned now, falling into mild disrepair and disarray as its diversity and mismatched architecture fused. 

For Essek, it really was the perfect metaphor for everything he and Caleb loved. Broken, incongruent pieces brought together to make something _whole_ . To maybe make something _home_ . Neither solely Empire nor Dynasty nor Coast, but something potentially, uniquely _theirs_. 

While they were planning the wedding and house-hunting, they were kindly put up in the Brenatto’s simple home in Nicodranas. They used it a couple of times a year- for holidays and get-togethers and the like, but now they were mostly based in the Empire. Yeza and Veth let to the couple (for free, of course, anything for my best friend) until they could officially find and move into their new home. 

Their only homes back then were two gifted houses- one in Zadash, and of course the Xhorhaus. Which he hadn’t been to since after they had taken down the Cult and ended the Assembly due to his exile. 

Essek’s exile was… informal at best. His treachery was grievous and had been dangerously acknowledged as such for a shaky time. But after all was said and done, and prices heavily paid in blood and trauma, the Dynasty relaxed the punishment a fraction in gratitude for his vital contributions. He never would be welcome back to Rosohna in a formal capacity. Excommunicated from Den Thelyss, stripped of any rank and nobility, Essek had been politely tossed on the streets and asked to never return. 

He happily complied. 

The others still went to the Xhorhaus from time to time. They had friends in Rosohna- Fjord liked to visit Wursh and his family, Caducueus would join him more often than not. Beauregard used her room when checking in with the new Cobalt archive- a small but growing annex to the Marble Tomes Conservatory. Truly a sign of evolving peace and alliances. He confesses that he does miss the long, roaming shelves of the Conservatory, but figures it was a small price to pay for his life and happiness now. 

Jester was always travelling, visiting her fellow followers- not but a few of which now held gatherings in Rosohna and Asarius. Yasha occasionally returned, but usually only if accompanying a fellow friend. 

After Essek was reduced to ‘banished’ (a fine downgrade from ‘hunted for execution’), he packed up his tower, his belongings and research, and stayed with the Nein that night. Caleb had stowed away all of his materials and books, his cat figurines and scarves, taken Essek’s hand, and transported them away. They hadn’t been back since, and they never looked back. 

The reformed Empire - still rebuilding from the ground up - tried to give the Mighty Nein multiple rewards and gratuitous gifts. Most they declined, some they didn’t. They didn’t need or want titles, or positions. They were _tired_ . They were _done_. They wanted peace, and rest. They were humbled. 

One of the rewards offered was an estate in Rexxentrum. Loud, immediate protestations indicated how big of a _‘no’_ that was going to be from the Nein, and the new Council were at a loss as to how to thank them. They wanted to do _something_. 

So they asked for a house. Just a small, well-fitted, comfortable house for them all to stay in- but not here. In Zadash, if you please. It’s central, and we have friends there. 

The Council had gone overboard in their zeal to accommodate and the Nein walked away with official documents detailing some real estate legalese or other. With little left to tidy up in the capital, they picked up their bags and packs, and made their way to Zadash. 

Unburdened by the fate of the world - now safe and secure (at least from the threats they had uncovered and dismantled) - the Nein had wearily travelled south. Not by magic or horseback, but by foot. 

It was an unspoken agreement, just something they collectively _needed_ . They wanted to _breathe_ , and take their time. To be together without feeling rushed, or scared. They wanted to enjoy the journey, enjoy the _world_ again, he felt. 

This was new for Essek. His adventuring and time with them from when he arrived bloodied and beaten on their ship until making way to Zadash afterwards had been fast-paced and high-stakes. This new, languid, alleviated Nein was fresh for him, but he could see the exhaustion in their eyes. The last few months had been ultimately victorious, but very unkind to his friends. 

There was something about walking from Rexxentrum, after declining high titles and higher promises of power, through the idyllic fields of the country that loosened them. They made camp at night, still sleeping in a huddled dome and passing by inns of various roadside villages. They joked, and laughed, and sang. They climbed trees and raced. They ran for the sake of running. Some days they didn’t even pack up camp, and just dozed among spring flowers and blue skies, just happy to be alive and there to enjoy it all. There was no hurry anymore, no timetable of doom. 

Jester would paint, Yasha would gather flowers and plait hair. Essek’s- longer now- frequently was braided back and decorated with some of those flowers on that relaxing journey. Most of them ended up adorned with similar crowns. He still has his, dried and pressed, in a book on his personal shelves.

It was the best three weeks Essek had ever had. 

Once they stopped by the River Erde, just after the Amber Crossroads. Their camp was made at midday, their agreement universal. Beau, Jester and Fjord had stripped of most of their garments to go splash in the crystalline waters, revelling and shouting with glee. Veth kept close watch from the river side, but just sitting close enough so the waters passed over her bare feet. Her tanned skin darkened in the sun, and her tattoo sparkled like starlight as she tilted her head to catch the warmth. Caduceus tilted his sun hat while setting up a small fire for tea, and Yasha lay with her face turned to the sky nearby- eyes closed, ankles crossed, hands loosely clasped, and breathing steady. Frumpkin pounced and skulked through the wildgrass, chasing prey and sometimes being successful. 

Essek watched all this from the shade of a tree. Daylight still bothered him, and his feet still ached. His eyes needed a bit more rest than usual,but Beau promised to get him goggles made like hers- “but the _reverse,_ Essek!” He had no doubt he would look ridiculous in them, and was excited to receive them. 

The bark was warm and textured through his clothes on his back, and a breeze whisked him away to a world where time held still. For all his dunamantic pursuits, Essek had never been able to replicate that particular feeling. 

Some days like this one, on this necessary slow exodus, Caleb would sit next to him, a book in hand (usually lewd and pornagraphic- one of Jester’s growing collection) and a soft smile on his face. They didn’t always speak, just being next to each other after everything was enough. And then one day, after handing Frumpkin back to his master, feeling bold and confident in their companionship, Essek took Caleb’s hand and never let go. 

It was the start of a new development for them both. 

Caleb’s hands were rough and scarred. Usually tinted with soot, or ink, his hands always bore evidence of his work. Sometimes these dark fingerprints would transfer onto Essek’s skin, and he would admire them for a time after whenever Caleb had to let go. 

Essek’s own soft hands were hardened after so long on the road now. Nowhere near the map of calluses that charted Caleb’s palms, but definitely more work-hardy than had previously been with his scholarly pursuits. 

After that first time, reaching for each other’s fingers became a frequent occurrence during these rests and stops. Thumbs passing back and forth soothingly, just impressing upon each other that they were both _alive_ and _here,_ next to each other. If any of the Nein noticed, they blessedly kept it to themselves. 

They never spoke about it, but shy, secret smiles were shared. Essek may have dallied in his youth with romance, short affairs and the like, but once his academia and career took off he never sought such frivolities, feeling it beneath him. Now sitting under shaded trees and listening to wild birds flutter- Essek believes he feels close to what holiness means for him. And it’s intertwining fingers resting on his lap- two hands clasped in prayer to themselves and whatever was between them in those early days. 

Turns out Essek never knew what romance was. He never knew what _love_ was. Anything he had trysted with in the past held no candle compared to what he felt for Caleb Widogast over the last year. 

Judging by the warmth in Caleb’s tired eyes, and the smile saved only for him… Essek believed Caleb was feeling something a little similar. And it equally terrified, and enraptured him. 

Essek would often sit during these quiet times, listening to his companions, hearing the turning of a page, or the hum of a Zemnian tune, and think back on his life. In just over a year his life had been turned irrevocably upside down, and back to front. He had gone from an exclusive, prestigious position in the Kryn Court, from having unfettered access to knowledge at the Tomes, and equipment of the highest grade for researching with… to traipsing in mud, sleeping on roadsides, defeating powers incomprehensible and gaining unhealable scars to marr his skin. 

Bruises, deep and absorbed, wore on his bones now. He had witnessed eldritch horrors, heard the screams and cries of his friends as they thought the end was upon them. Tears had been shed, his throat yelling until hoarse. Despair often overwhelmed him, and many-a-times he nearly abandoned it all to go back to solitude. 

_Shame_ had been his familiar. His constant companion. Sometimes it suffocated him when around them because he didn’t feel worthy of their guidance, their love, their aid. He had been irredeemably selfish teleporting to them on the Balleater, blood pouring and breath shaky. He had been a damned man under the heel of the Assembly, ultimately awaiting attempts at dispatch and assassination. He had been alone, and distant, and cruel, and selfish, and the _Shadowhand_ all before the Mighty Nein came tumbling into his life and shifted everything sideways into chaos. 

And Essek wouldn’t change it for the world. 

The beacon business was a sticky subject. On one hand, the shame he felt with regards to the Nein about it still lingered like a haunting spirit over his shoulder. He’ll never be absolved of that, and it’s taken a long time for it to settle within Essek. On the other hand, if he had never stolen the beacons, the Nein may not have found their way to him, and ultimately he could still be miserable, cold, and lonely in his towers in Rosohna. 

The conflict was one Essek would still occasionally ruminate on years and years later, but then he would look to his husband reading in their study, or talking to his familiar in happy tones, and decide it was all worth it. 

For all the time Essek had been on the road with them, and travelling, fighting, saving, talking, learning, redeeming- he and Caleb never found time for just _them._ Their chemistry grew so palpable in some moments, especially when connecting dots or missing pieces to their goals and next steps… only to be interrupted by a cough or snicker. Privacy was not a thing when travelling with the Mighty Nein. Coupled with impending doom and growing targets on their backs, it felt like there was never a right time to talk about them as a pair. 

And, if Essek was being brutally honest, he didn’t feel worthy of Caleb since that night of the party in Nicodranas. 

He still felt a little unworthy, sitting under those road-side trees and tracing spell glyphs and patterns into a pale hand. Still far to go, but Caduceus assured him that just feeling like that at all was a good sign and first steps. He’d also tell Essek that he was proud of the effort Essek was making. Essek was making small differences in the world and it was a bold start. Culminating with helping to end the Assembly and tear down the cult, yes, Essek was not off to a bad start at all.

But whenever those feelings of unease and doubt started rising again, Caleb would squeeze his hand gentle, and start reading aloud from whatever literature he had his long nose in. 

And so their journey south to Zadash went. Caleb would wistfully tell of the history of local areas, Beau chiming in excitedly. She would gesture wildly to the hills just visible to the west, recalling memories she had of growing up in those mountainous shadows. Essek would engage her often, and ask for more information that she would readily supply. Partially because he was genuinely interested in learning more, and secondly because he was still appealing to her character.

Their relationship had been tenuous and strained following his charade reveal in Nicodranas. Her standoffish, curt attitude lasted for some time and only finally started to settle when he arrived bloody and bruised on the deck of their ship, begging for aid. And then they pulled into Nicodranas. Having Essek meet Marion had been as much a turning point for her as it was for him, he feels. He suspected that his cracking display revealed something to Beauregard about him, but he was too emotionally raw to ask her, even several months later. 

Things were better between them now. Their (renewed?) friendship was the definition of foxhole friends. Essek had risked a great deal during a particularly hard fight to stop her being crushed where she stood. She had seen the vulnerable position he put himself in to do so, and he made note of her stilted efforts after to show gratitude. Fjord helped smooth over a lot. 

It was a lot of work, but he appreciated it. He thinks Caleb helped too, privately.

Now she joked and included him in her wide smiles and wilder gestures and Essek could take what he could get. She punched him in the shoulders, teased him, called him out- treated him the same, basically, as the rest of her family. The first time he rubbed his shoulder after she knocked into him with a cutting remark, he fought to hide a smile creep across his face. He learned with observation that it was a sign of her acceptance and that maybe, just _maybe,_ everything would work out okay with them. He didn’t want to see that face of growing disappointment and darkening distrust on her face again. He joined them to do _good._

And good they had done. 

The toll had been high- physical wounds and mental scars never fully to heal, but the results had been worth every drop of blood. 

So then, sitting under a large tree with his fingers threaded with a man who dropped to his knees to plead with him on a dark, lonely ship, Essek reaps the rewards of making the right choice. 

He fell into a doze with a head on a sun-tanned shoulder. 

* * *

Zadash was...certainly _something_ . Not the strict-like metropolis of Rexxentrum, or the religiously-piloted streets of Rexxentrum. No. It was...a hub-bub. It was _people_ , more than buildings. It was colourful and close and commercial. 

They met with the starosta, Essek in disguise for now. Wyatt Fedar- a halfling man of confident stature- met with them almost immediately upon arrival and all but grovelled. It had taken much calming down and pleads of ‘no that’s really not necessary’ to thwart his … appeasing attitude, but he did settle to a more formidable composition. 

Essek had perhaps been secretly enjoying the verbal prostrations, but he followed the others’ leads. He was attempting to be _humble_ now. It was a long-term project. A century of looking down his nose at people who sneered at him first, was difficult to shake. 

The Starosta had looked over the documents with care, the eight of them sitting on couches or standing behind them in a room within his offices. A window was open and Essek could hear the hustle and bustle of the streets below. 

With its tall buildings and close streets, many of the thoroughfares were blessedly shaded, and pulling in under the northern gates had cooled Essek greatly. He had enjoyed the journey here, but the weather had been overly hot and glaring. 

His brow was pinched with the lingering headache, Essek reaching for his water skin while the Starosta perused, mumbling under his breath and adjusting light spectacles on his nose. 

He felt a small tap on his knee and found Frumpkin pawing him lightly. He looked to Caleb whose face was very deliberately pointed away at a glass-encased bookcase. Essek smiled, and scratched the familiar’s neck allowing him full access to his lap. 

Determining everything was fine with the paperwork, the Starosta jumped up and led them from his offices. Two carriages were called and the Nein were bundled in between the two. He was shuffled into the second with Yasha, Fjord, and Veth, while the others accompanied their host. Frumpkin decided to stay with Essek, leaping to his shoulders when they left. 

Essek thought he saw an occasional flash of blue across his eyes, but whenever he peered closer to the cat, it was gone. 

He didn’t see much through the carriage window, preferring to sit back and enjoy the cushioned seat and shade. The rocking of their transport lulled him into a slight doze and when he awoke the headache was lessened. 

The house was huge. At least by Xhorhas standards. Rosohna’s cramped city limits meant space was premium but Zadash held no such problems. They had walls, yes, and perhaps similar populace, but their grander estates were very fine indeed. 

He would say the house was the size of the Xhorhaus if not _larger_. Certainly plenty of space for them. Their tour was brief, but informative and Essek felt a little more at home in this grand house and its sweeping staircase. It lacked the familiar warmth of the smaller Xhorhaus, with its wide open entryway and secluded, walled off gardens, but held enough rooms for them all. Pre-prepared, it seems, in time for their arrival. 

He and Caduceus in particular looked around in awe, admiring and nodding along to the Starosta’s talks. It wasn’t until much later, when they were left in the house to their own devices, that the rest of the party burst out in shakey laughter. 

Out of the loop, he, Yasha, and Caduceus exchanged a curious glance. 

“I cannot believe we were given _this_ house out of all of them-” Beau cries, all but spinning as she gestures to the upstairs floor. 

“I know! I almost didn’t keep a straight face!” Veth supplied. 

“They- they really managed to fix it up good, huh?” Jester commented, looking round in wonder. 

“Pardon me, but what do you mean?”

“Oh! Essek - oh! That’s right, you and Caduceus weren’t here! Basically we came into this house one night -”

“That was the night the tower blew up,” Fjord interjected.

“Oh- oh that’s _right-_ ” 

“Oh that was wild!”

And so Essek learned yet one more odd adventure into the early days of the Mighty Nein. Hearing of a sword to Caleb’s throat drew a deep anger in Essek which he had to swallow, but it was made very clear by Caleb himself that he was a bit of a bastard back then. Fjord sheepishly said the same of his past self. It had been very new, their friendship, and was more work-based at the time than anything else. 

Essek briefly thought of how he was in the past compared to now, and winced. Hmm. A previously-cold individual indeed. He wondered if he ever unlocked the secrets of time-travel that he could observe himself in the past. See just how far he’d come. Perhaps- 

No. Such ruminations were best left unthought. 

Bone-weary, joints aching, and dusty from the roads, the Nein split off into their various chambers. Fjord and Caduceus shared, as did Beau and Jester. Veth took a room close to the back, doubling it swiftly as her new labspace within two weeks. Yasha took one overlooking the front of the house with a balcony. She told him one day that sometimes she thinks she sees Molly sitting across the street from her window, dealing cards and calling out to passersby but then when she peers closer it was a trick of the eye. 

He gave her a gratefully received awkward pat on the arm. He’d always keep a look out for a lavender tiefling after that. 

Caleb and Essek both claimed bedrooms down the hall very near the library. Essek’s room was nice and spacious. Plain, but functional. Not as grand or ornate as his own house, and the decór was a little too bright for his tastes, but nevertheless, it was his. He slept well that night, sinking into the mattress and darkening his room with heavy curtains. 

* * *

Zadash was a city of firsts for Essek. 

First Empire-based city he didn’t feel constantly on alert. 

First time he met the charming enchanter Pumat Sol. A friendly fellow who took one look at Essek’s disguise, commented on it without judgement, and complimented such fine spellwork. Taken aback, he remarked similar awe regarding the wares for sale and the two occasionally dipped into intrinsic talk regarding enchanting and the like. He was bright, intelligent. Kind. Very much Nein-ilk.

Essek liked Pumat Sol. He could see why his friends were excited to visit him. There was a calming aspect to his shop that just added to the charm and vibrancy of all he offered. The simulacra were a curious addition too, and Essek would spend some time here over the next few weeks questioning Pumat on them and their capabilities. He wanted to improve upon his own Resonant Echo, and the permanency of the Simulacra seemed like a good place to start. 

Another first was his within his developing relationship with Caleb. 

They agreed, after brief, sensible discussion, to share the library as a study space. Few else in the house would use it and they synchronised well together as partners. Research partners that is. 

The tentative development between them on the road still held strong, but hadn’t gone any further than that unspoken acknowledgement that something was between them. Sometimes hands twitched and intertwined when next to each other. Other times it was lingering stares, sometimes witnessed, other times not. 

There was no doubt of his feelings for the man. Essek had long surrendered to that lightning strike of a connection. It eventually grew to a point where Essek would be lost in his own head mid-conversation, watching Caleb animatedly talk about a passionate subject, when a smack to his head from Beau or a poke from Veth would snap him out of his reverie. 

He was embarrassed to be caught in those moments. Sometimes Caleb noticed the assault and laughed, other times he was oblivious. Either way, Essek was a little mortified. 

Though he would smirk when they did the same to Caleb for similar crimes. 

It was about two weeks after arriving in Zadash, when the Nein were taking time to themselves, that Essek experienced this other first. 

Veth was out with her family for the day, teleported up from Nicodranas, and scouting out retail premises. There were talks of opening their alchemy shop in Zadash, with its popular location and proximity to Felderwin. 

Beau was at the Cobalt Soul on some business, while Fjord and Jester were on food shopping duty today. (There was a chore wheel which was sometimes adhered to and more often than not ignored. Essek Thelyss, former Shadowhand to the Kryn Dynasty Bright Queen had his name on a _chore wheel.)_ Yasha and Caduceus were looking into contractors for their gardens. They wanted various vegetable and fruit plots, and perhaps a small orchard. Yasha was particularly excited to get her own area of wildflowers going. 

Which left Caleb and Essek alone in the house. With Frumpkin lurking somewhere of course. 

This wasn’t unusual, the Nein had taken their time in arriving at the city and so were mostly rested and rejuvenated and itching to do things. They would often take trips out to the busy streets, visiting friends or family (in Jester’s case he had learned), shopping, general sight-seeing. But it was rare that they all did it at once. 

It also wasn’t unusual for Caleb and Essek to hole up in the library during the day, but it was typically with the noise and bustle of some of the others bumping around the house to distract them. Now, alone, there was nothing but the scratching of their quills, the turning of pages and passing of books. 

Some of their work was recording. Over the last few months, they had made minute and important changes to some spells for necessity and wanted to officially document these alterations and possibilities. Occasionally they would outline the next steps and potential developments for where else they could take these spells. 

It was during one of the rising conversations, excited and stimulating, that had Essek standing at their newly-installed blackboard, reiterating a complex equation and attempting to translate from Xhorhassian terminology to Common. For all there was mostly the same runic symbology and nuance across mage inscriptions and glyphs, there were still deviating flairs and additions unique to varying languages. And factoring in dunamancy meant that a lot of it was in Undercommon, given that they had generally headed the field of study in that area of magic. 

So while Essek spoke aloud, his voice rising and falling with his cadence, chalk dusting his hand and imprinting on his sleeves, Caleb would stand just behind him, arms crossed seriously, and devouring it all. 

Intelligent questions were posited, logical conclusions reached before Essek could finish explaining. He was remarkable and adept. The perfect student. The perfect _partner._

Apparently Essek was going too slow at one point because Caleb came up right behind him, slipped the chalk from his long fingers, and continued the formula as he went in that long, beautiful cursive. 

Caleb stood with one hand ghosting lightly on Essek’s lower back, effectively pinning him between body and board. Zemnian accent tickled Essek’s long ear as Caleb would mutter under his breath, reaching and curling his wrist and arm to finish the equation. Essek watched, mesmerised, as bright eyes darted around the rest of the board, connecting dots, carrying figures, transcribing runes, and completing arcane mathematics. The scent of ink, molasses, and parchment drifted around Essek’s space until he was heady with the proximity. 

When Caleb was done, with pride and accomplishment shining in his eyes, he dropped the chalk and turned excitedly to Essek to share his enthusiasm. Staring right at him now, Essek could see the shine and passion alight in Caleb’s eyes. The thrill of the solve thrumming through him, mouth still parted with silent pants as he calmed down from the high. His lips were wet from muttering, cheeks well on their way to becoming rouged. 

Clearly, lost in fervour, Caleb hadn’t realised just how close he had been to the drow, too consumed by the material at hand. Which meant that his hand on Essek’s back was a very natural thing for him to do. Essek watched as several expressions flitted across Caleb’s face. He deciphered _want_. Need. Hesitation. 

And so they stood, barely inches between them, sharing a heated gaze and simultaneously realising that they weren’t going to be interrupted. 

Essek could barely breathe as resolve steeled in Caleb’s eyes. The hand on his back pressed a little firmer, indicating intent, and actions deliberate. Finding no protest in Essek’s face, permission was silently asked, and with a nod so small Essek felt his entire world shift off-balance, the two men met as one. 

Even now, years later, Essek swears Caleb moved first in that kiss. He’ll tease the wizard for how awfully _passionate_ and _demanding_ Caleb was. His husband will laugh fondly, with mischief and love in his smile, and declare that in face they both moved together. Essek plays like a lover so _terribly_ seduced and debauched, with kind cutting remarks about the cunning human who enthralled Essek so. It usually ends with an arched eyebrow from Caleb, two arms around Essek’s waist, and an embrace so strong he can feel the growing desire pressing against him. 

Perhaps Essek admits in those times that _he_ was the one enticing his husband. Perhaps. 

As time and love had grown, their comfortable boundaries expanded to include each other without question,thus so had Essek’s expressions of affection and ardour. But in those early days, when all their physical contact had been a forgiving blessing on the forehead, and gentle hand-holding, that first kiss was a star being born. 

It wasn’t stellar in the way that passion and lust overwhelmed them, no. Not yet. It was slow, and languid. Sweet, and exploring. It was tenderly admitting their vulnerabilities, and opening up to each other in a way they never had for anyone else. It was built on the growing intrigue, aligning and yearning the pair had sparked from that first meeting right up to that very moment. That first lesson of Essek wishing to show him a few things, until now when he was the one being shown. It was everything Essek envisioned it would be _and so much more._

Essek hadn’t realised his hands had slid up Caleb’s arms and shoulders until he felt the lean muscle shifting beneath. His eyes had treacherously closed of their own joyous accord, so all his senses could focus on was the man pulling Essek around to him as they kissed. His ears shifted to hear the deep breaths they were taking, noses brushing with their movements, his chin being caressed by growing stubble. 

Strong hands gingerly held Essek steady, grounding him from falling into this oblivious existence forever where all that mattered was the two of them, intertwined and as one. 

But as with all things, what goes up generally comes down and so did their high. 

Naturally parting, breaths came in quiet huffs and chuckles as two foreheads pressed together. 

They said nothing, stealing shy glances from under long eyelashes as they revelled in this afterglow. Caleb’s long arms clasped securely now around Essek’s waist, his own arms now hanging over slowly heaving shoulders. Essek’s fingers were tangled in the locks at the back of Caleb’s neck and even now he lightly combed through just because he finally _could._

Caleb was now thoroughly flushed and Essek had a hard time computing that _he_ made him like that. He vowed then and there to make Caleb look just like that moment as often as he could for the sheer image of seeing him so incensed and _happy._

He made Caleb happy. 

Essek is a prodigy of Dunamancy. A wizard of no small skills and intelligence, and practically the top mind in the field in all of Exandria. 

And yet, holding this man in his embrace, breathing the same air, feeling hungry,sweet lips ghosting across his in askance once more, Essek lost all sense of time. He had no idea if eternity had passed. It could have for all Essek cared. External events and matters dissolved away for in that moment, his entire world was Caleb. 

Essek had so much to say. I’m sorry for the past. I love you. Thank you for my present. I love you. I love us. Please love me. Please love us. Let us be _us._ Become my future.

So much raced through, and he struggled to comprehend any of it so that when he opened his mouth to express it all, nothing came out for Essek was thoroughly _wrecked._

Errant silver hair fell in his vision, and Caleb’s eyes shone with laughter- not cruel or unkind, but completely and utterly enamored. He had seen similar adoration in Caleb’s expressions over the months as he looked to those in his family, but there was an underlying intensity, a promise and tender sincerity that only Essek was bestowed. 

He truly made Caleb happy. _He_ did. Essek. 

He felt his throat well up a fraction, but before a sob or hiccup could escape him, Essek pressed his lips needily to Caleb’s again. 

It was a first of many. Some were just as tender, and questioning. Others were gentle, and comforting. Many were affectionate- a greeting on the neck, a tease on the nose, forgiveness on his forehead. A handful were mischievous- pressed hastily on his cheeks, dancing away before Essek could laughingly bat him away. Some were grateful on the back of his hand, or seductive on his ears. Others bestowed in places so scandalous, Essek never knew he wanted to be kissed there until Caleb did it. 

It didn’t take long for Essek’s sky to fill with stars born of these kisses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seems like this fic is my go-to escape writing project, so updates will be sporadic, but lengthy. Got a general idea of it now, and it's still just pure loving vibes y'all.
> 
> <3


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